


A Song of Love

by DRHPaints



Category: Conan O’Brien, Conan O’Brien RPF, Late Night Host RPF, US Comedians RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cooking, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fluff, One Shot, Smut, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27258181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints
Summary: Conan surprises Julia by making her dinner. Afterward, Julia sneaks under the table to express her gratitude.
Relationships: Conan O’Brien/Original Female Character
Kudos: 6





	A Song of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [damn_conan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/damn_conan/gifts).



> The title is from a lyric in The Beatles’ song ‘Julia’

Strolling into the house, Julia’s ears perked up at the sound of  _ The Who’s ‘ _ Who Are You’ echoing from the direction of the kitchen. “Conan?” Furrowing her brow, Julia toed off her flats and burst out laughing when she spotted him.

Non-existent ass swinging and drumming in the air, Conan bopped in front of the stove in blue checkered boxers, buoyant orange hair flopping haphazardly as he rocked out to the tunes.

“Conan.  _ Conan!” _ Julia shouted to be heard over the music and Conan flipped around, beaming. 

Turning down the volume, Conan approached her. “Hey!” It was then she saw which apron he wore. Initially they spotted it when Julia and Conan were pacing through a department store. It bore the image of a French maid’s outfit, complete with a lace fringe on top. Nudging her, Conan pointed at it and smirked.

”So just how much of a chauvinist am I if I really,  _ really _ want you to wear that?” Deep chuckle rumbling up from his chest, Conan made his impossibly faint orange eyebrows dance.

Julia playfully smacked his arm. “Aw, well. As long as you don’t expect me to serve you in it, I think we’re fine.”

“Oh baby…” Sinking into his silly deep voice, which despite its intended hilarity, Julia found incredibly sexy, Conan tipped his head down. “You wear that around the house and I’ll happily eat peanut butter out of a jar like a degenerate.”

So to have Conan’s lanky bare arms wrap around her while sporting the saucy garment as he caught her lips for a brief kiss was more than a little amusing to Julia as she glanced around the kitchen. “What...what’re you doing?”

“I’m making you dinner!” Smiling proudly, Conan held his large hands aloft before skipping back to the stove to stir a pan of frying beef. Eyes wide, Julia took in the tornado that was their counters, half a dozen cabinets and drawers open, and blinked.

“And, um…” Julia swallowed, a smirk blossoming over her curvaceous lips. “How is the house not on fire right now?”

Scoffing, Conan rolled his eyes. “Come on, that was  _ one  _ time!”

This wasn’t the first instance of Conan attempting the culinary arts. For their last anniversary, Conan decided he was going to whip Julia up an extravagant meal and, aiming high, chose beef Wellington. It went well in the beginning. Sort of. The dish was lopsided, and Julia swore she saw him use an inhuman amount of salt when preparing, but said nothing as he slid it into the oven. 

Desiring a golden brown exterior like in the photo of the recipe Conan discovered, he scanned the instructions and it told him to leave the Wellington under the broiler for three to five minutes. Conan, however, being a novice in the kitchen, didn’t realize the broiler came with different settings, and flipped it to inferno level before leaning on the counter to scroll through his phone.

It wasn’t until Julia mentioned she smelled something burning two minutes later that Conan opened the oven door and they were greeted by billowing smoke and a blackened brick decorated with flames.

“Oh shit!” Stepping back in a panic, Conan held up his hands. “What do we do?”

Julia rushed to the bottom cupboard and got out the fire extinguisher, turning off the oven and spraying down the monstrosity that was meant to be dinner. Opening the sliding glass doors, Conan fanned a pillow below the smoke detector, apologizing profusely, but Julia laughed, reassuring him before they gave up and ordered a pizza.

Things seemed to be going considerably smoother this time around, though, as Conan tipped the beef onto a paper-lined plate to soak up the excess grease before grabbing a handful of ramen blocks.

“Do you need any help?” Gathering up her hair, Julia went to the sink to wash her hands but Conan stopped her.

“Nope.” He gave her ass a gentle pat and pointed to the chair. “You just sit down. I got this.”

Skeptical, Julia watched Conan from the kitchen table and tried to relax as he danced about the kitchen, gangly limbs flying and making a plethora of weird noises, including, but not limited to: imitating the guitar when Roxanne by  _ The Police  _ played, saying  _ ‘chugga, chugga, chugga, chugga _ ’ as he filled the pot with water before placing it on the burner, and, of course,  _ ‘Waneee! Wanaaa!’ _ As he uncorked the fish sauce and held it over a spoon.

It was no surprise. Conan performed constantly, regardless of whether or not he had an audience. He even put on a show for himself. One morning, blearily shuffling past the bathroom, Julia caught sight of him through the half open door, face covered in shaving cream as Conan eyed his razor. 

“Oh, you think you can cut  _ me _ , do ya?” Lifting a ginger eyebrow, Conan lowered his voice, pointing in accusation at the tool in his hand. “Well think again, pal. Because you just brought a knife to a gun fight!”

Tiptoeing back to the bedside stand, Julia picked up her phone and returned to the bathroom entrance, slyly pressing record as Conan continued arguing with not only the razor, but the shaving cream canister, his toothbrush, even berating the hand soap for being,  _ ‘complicit in these devilish crimes!’ _

Giggle squeaking out of her, Conan finally turned and spotted Julia taping him. “Oh now you’re gonna  _ get it!”  _ Tossing the razor in the sink, Julia shrieked as Conan chased her foam-faced into the bedroom. She ended up with shaving cream in some odd places, but it was worth it as anytime Julia rewatched the video she cackled uproariously.

“Wait…” Pursing his thin lips, Conan turned to her. “Which one is the teaspoon again? T-S-P or T-B-S-P?”

_ How did this man get through Harvard?  _ “T-S-P.” Julia informed him. “And there’s three teaspoons to a tablespoon, and four tablespoons in a—“

“Bzzz!” Conan fluttered a big hand at her, clenching his eyes. “Don’t confuse me, now!”

Giggling, Julia shook her head as Conan raised the bottle and spoon, crystalline eyes concentrated and tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth before adding the sauce to a warm pan.

“What’re you making, anyway?” Studying the assembled ingredients, even with her passion for cooking, Julia wasn’t able to discern his goal.

“Mongolian Ramen.” Conan grinned, picking up the soy sauce and similarly adding it with dexterity.

Soon a delicious smell invaded the kitchen and, as Conan dropped the noodles into the boiling water, Julia had to admit she was impressed. Draining the ramen, Conan added it to the sauce, along with the beef, and set it to simmer before padding over to his phone.

The Beatles’  _ Julia  _ radiated over the Bluetooth speaker and Conan came to her, large palm outstretched and smiling. Standing, Julia shook her head and beamed as he began to sing, scooping her into his arms and swaying them over the tile. Conan’s high, beautiful voice climbed over these lyrics for Julia dozens, maybe hundreds of times by now, but it never failed to make her swoon as she nestled into his tall frame, Conan’s thin lips humming against her neck as she inhaled his intoxicating scent.

Fab Four fading, Conan leaned back to comb her hair out of her face. “You hungry?” The way his voice dropped, eyebrow arched, the sensuous tick of the corner of his lips, made Julia think Conan might not be talking about the food as she nodded.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

Conan dished up the noodles, serving it to her and remaining in the apron as he joined Julia at the table. “Now…” Fork hovering, Conan’s cerulean eyes flicked up at her. “If this is poisoned, we die together, right?”

“Right.” Julia smiled before lifting the first bite to her mouth. Her tongue was frightened at first, but after a couple of chews, Julia nodded. “Conan!” Holding a hand in front of her face, she swirled up another forkful. “This is delicious. You did a great job.”

Conan’s smile was radiant as he covered Julia’s hand with his own. “Yeah?”

“Definitely.” Julie munched contentedly. About halfway through her bowl, Julia’s eyes trailed over to Conan. His lean forearms perched on the table as his massive hands spun the fork. Sharp jaw moving up and down as he ate, Conan hummed a little to himself to the music softly playing in the background. The tiny tuft of orange hair peeking out of the top of the frilly apron…

“Whoops…” Julia intentionally dropped her fork on the floor, biting her lip. Conan started to bend and she held up a hand. “Don’t worry. I got it.”

Descending from her chair, Julia snuck under the table, hands gliding up Conan’s lithe legs. “Whoa…” Conan chuckled, peering down at her. “What're you doing under there?”

Julia lifted the apron aside and inched down his boxers. “Just thanking you for dinner…”

Lips wrapping around his soft cock, Julia took the entirety of Conan into her mouth, sucking intensely and relishing the way he stiffened over her tongue. “Mmm…” Conan laid his head back, lengthy fingers winding into her hair. “Fuck...Jules, that’s...that’s good…”

Julia began to bob, thankful that Conan’s extensive height requires such a tall table as she moaned around his turgid flesh. Hand cupping his balls, Julia rolled them between her fingers, tugging a bit in the way she knew drove Conan wild, causing him to rock into her eager face.

“Oh...oh  _ yes...just like that _ …” Sharply inhaling, both of Conan’s sizable palms pushed her down, his cock thrusting into her throat as Julia hollowed her cheeks. “ _ Fuck! Yes, suck me! _ ”

Tongue playing over the underside of his substantial cock, Julia sank down, burrowing Conan in her recesses and inhaling vigorously until he gasped and curved forward. 

“ _ Oh Jules! Yes! Fuck! Keep going! Don’t stop!” _ Humping her mouth aggressively, the chair legs screeched over the floor as Conan pummeled Julia’s throat and drool dangled from the corners of her lips.

Gobbling him with abandon, whimpers of helpless lust broke from between Conan’s teeth, needy and desperate as his hips swiveled urgently. “ _ Oh Julia! Yes! Fuck! I love your mouth! Fuck!” _ Shoving her down, Conan’s wiry arms gripped her head beneath the table as he pulsed rapidly, barely extricating himself, addicted to the moist heat as he whined like an air raid siren.

“ _ Jules! I’m gonna cum! Yes! Yes! Fuck! FUCK! _ ” Body hunched and face distorted, Conan tensed, before, with a shuddering gasp he sprang back in his chair, pelvis jerking forward, warm, salty cum flooding the back of Julia’s throat before she gladly swallowed. 

Replacing his boxers, Julia wiped her eyes and mouth with Conan’s apron as he limply draped himself over the seat, panting and running a freckled hand through his ginger hair. Crawling out from underneath the table, Julia placed herself in his narrow lap, kissing the corner of his sculpted jaw.

“Thanks again, Conan.” Smiling, she rubbed his carved cheekbone with her thumb. “It was sweet of you to surprise me with dinner.”

“Thank  _ me?”  _ Conan laughed, squeezing Julia’s ass. “Damn. Apparently I should’ve learned to cook a long time ago.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom. I also take requests!


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